


The Path to Heaven

by cloverdog



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: AU, But I also didn't declaw him in any way, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Insecurity, Past Abuse, Past Violence, Rated for Vanitas's attitude, Scars, Swearing, Vanitas included, Vanitas isn't the bad guy anymore, in this au they're 19 and 20 respectively, meaning not a fragile damsel in distress, okay but Aqua is written in character, she WILL AND HAS kicked everyone's ass before, so he's still an asshole, that too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 14:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8331640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloverdog/pseuds/cloverdog
Summary: Aqua's curiosity and compassion seemed to get the best of her at the most inopportune of moments; and her curiosity about Vanitas, inevitably, had formed questions with answers he was never willing to give. Her compassion, on the other hand, was what led her to press for them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've got like a dozen KH fics on google docs and haven't posted any of them lmao--
> 
> Anyway. This is hopefully true to their characters, though I did have to put the reigns on Vanitas (because come on, he's literally a hellion) at some points in order for the plot to make sense. I really love this ship, and there aren't nearly enough works for it; so I'll probably crank out a few more eventually. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_The path to heaven runs through miles of clouded Hell._  
(It’s Time: Imagine Dragons)

* * *

  
Of every event that had followed Aqua, Ventus and Terra meeting at the Keyblade Graveyard to battle Vanitas and Xehanort, the greatest of all, no doubt, had been when Vanitas had wandered into the Land of Departure.

Despite a mask black as pitch obscuring his face, Aqua could tell he was lost - she could see it in how he'd paused just outside of the corridor he'd created in the middle of the training grounds, looking over his shoulder to it and then up at the castle. She had drawn her weapon almost immediately, Terra following when he realized who had intruded upon their world; but Ventus had stopped them. He had insisted that they at least talk to him - find out why he was there, and how he was alive. If worse came to worse, he wouldn't survive a three-against-one battle with them, even on his best day; Aqua wished she believed him as easily as Terra had. She knew that the creature behind that Keyblade was nothing but unbridled darkness, a demon set on destruction and suffering. If he wanted to kill them all, he would - even at the cost of his own life along with theirs, she had a feeling. Regardless, she had put her faith in Ven’s word. After all, if Vanitas had wanted a fight, he would have struck where it counted; not dawdled around on the training grounds where they could have ambushed him.

Vanitas, surprisingly, hadn't summoned a weapon when the three emerged, two wielding their own Keyblades, and the third being the very light that he was torn away from. He had crossed his arms, cocked his head, and rested his weight on one leg - too cockily for Aqua’s liking. He acted as if he were at home there. When Ventus asked why he had come, he'd paused; just a few seconds too many had passed before he spoke up. “Well I don't have anywhere else to be, do I?” Ventus had frowned. “You could be in any other world; ones with darkness, or where you could be alone with the Unversed, or…” Vanitas had gone eerily quiet. When he replied, his voice was clipped; tone sharp. “I'm not exactly functional in society. Surely even _you’ve_ noticed that, Ventus.”

It had been a rocky road since then.

Although Vanitas hadn't turned against them, hadn't destroyed anything and barely ever allowed an Unversed to surface unless he was positive he could handle them, he was still cynical and cold - still haughty and superior. He didn't allow them to see his face, and didn't lower his guard for more than a few seconds at a time. She was positive that, even with a dinner plate occupying both hands, if one of them approached from behind too quickly, he would have had his Keyblade against their throat in a fraction of a second. Aqua also wasn't entirely convinced that he functioned as a normal human being - none of them had ever caught him sleeping, nor had they actually seen him drink or eat, though Ven had assured her he had a human face and body under the cloud of darkness he’d woven together.

Of course, not even Ven was entirely sure if he ate or dumped the food when he was out of sight; there wasn't much evidence against it.

Along the way, however many holes there were in the path, however long it took him to accept any of them as so much as neutral parties, Vanitas had forged a sort of friendship with Ventus. Maybe it was because he was the other half of his heart; perhaps because he was made solely of light as opposed to his darkness, and the balance between them held them steady; but gradually, over the months, he had lowered his guard around the blond. The first time Aqua saw Vanitas without his mask was also the first time she had ever seen him asleep - when she’d gone to find the two, she had spotted him lying stretched out in the shade of Ventus’s favorite tree, Ven leaning against the trunk just a few inches from his head.  
She'd been stunned motionless for more than a moment.

She didn't expect him to look so… _Human_. Even if Ven had said he was just as human as they were, something doubted the words; she perceived darkness as ugly, cold, twisted… But his face wasn't. He had thick eyelashes, black hair spiked out in a hundred different directions, and pale lips parted as he breathed easily in his sleep. His posture was relaxed; one hand rested over his stomach, and the other arm was folded under his head. His breathing was slow and deep, signs of a sleep unbroken by dreams or worries. What stunned her, aside from seeing his face for the first time, was how peaceful he seemed, lying out in the open of the training grounds. Vanitas was nearly always on edge, shoulders drawn and body angled to face anyone and everyone present. He was so keen on never having his back towards any of them--and for all he knew, he was putting his life in Ventus’s hands then and there.

Aqua had finally torn her wide eyes from his face, looking at Ventus with clear shock on her expression - and he had just smiled, mouthing silently, “ _He's getting better._ ” This must not have been the first time. And while that didn't mean he'd ever abandon the dark, it meant that his ways were changing. It meant he was learning, for the first time in his life, how to trust.

Along the way, she'd formed some sort of friendship with him, as well - maybe not as trusting at first, but a friendship nonetheless. They didn’t speak often, and conversations were brief. Vanitas usually sought her out rather than vice versa, keeping her silent company while she read or worked; he would find a book to read, something to occupy himself with, or a comfortable spot to lounge around in for a while. Anything was better than nothing to Aqua, though he would still have to prove himself entirely to her before she could accept him as one of them. It was only natural, in her opinion. He’d put them all through so much; it would be foolish to forget everything that had happened at the drop of a dime.

After a few weeks of Vanitas hanging around in the library silently as she read, he'd done so in an unexpected way. Aqua was in the middle of a book, ignoring his presence, when his voice startled her out of her immersion. She had to remind herself of exactly where she was; the plot was just starting to reach a climax, and she had to fight back a scowl at the interruption. “What's that charm you're always carrying?”

She looked up quickly, seeing him lying on the couch, legs kicked up on one arm and head rested against the other. He wasn't wearing his helmet, and his golden eyes were staring back at her almost unnervingly. Her eyebrows furrowed for a moment before she subconsciously touched the star-shaped charm hung at her belt under the table. “My Wayfinder…?” Vanitas gave a short nod. “Why do you carry it?” Vanitas shifted, facing her a bit more easily. “Is it for battle? A magic boost or something?” Aqua had smiled softly; she understood that Xehanort had taught him very little aside from how to fight, though he wouldn't share much else about his past or his Master. It was almost endearing at times, his clueless approach to things she dealt with every day. He found wonder in some of the most mundane things; sweets, for one. They had to limit how much ice cream was in the castle at any time, for it would vanish in an hour flat if Vanitas caught wind of it.

He had also initially thought spoons were for smacking people, which was considerably less endearing. Watching him lean across the table like a snake striking to slap Terra on the arm with the back of a metal spoon had managed to get a laugh from all but the victim. Terra and his temporarily-bruised arm didn’t find it half as amusing. Vanitas just turned it around and asked if he was handling it incorrectly.

“Sort of. It's so I never lose my friends; if I'm apart from Ven or Terra, I'll always find my way back to them. I'll never be lost as long as I have it,” Aqua had explained, a smile on her lips and her voice warm. The charm itself seemed to glimmer a pale, happy blue as she brushed her thumb over the surface. Vanitas seemed to consider this for a while before turning his head, looking back up at the ceiling. After a few moments, Aqua supposed his curiosity had been sated; she returned to her reading easily. She'd polished off four pages when he cleared his throat, almost uncomfortably. “If I made one, do you think it would work?”

Aqua was appalled.

_He wants to make a Wayfinder…?_

She shook herself slightly to get back on track, trying to process the unexpected question. “I - suppose it would? Only if you consider us your friends,” Aqua had replied, slipping a bookmark into the novel before she carefully closed it. She couldn't resist pushing for information. “So I’m your friend…?” Vanitas mumbled something decidedly bitter under his breath. “I guess.” A grin pulled at her face. She could see a tinge of red on his face as he glared at the ceiling. “And Ven?” “Something like that.” “Even Terra…?” She pressed. He looked ready to implode. “My _god_ , whatever! Sure. _Even Terra_."

His Wayfinder was red, trimmed in silver and black, and in spite of his color scheme carrying over to the charm, it didn't look imposing or dark; it looked like a wildflower with fiery petals. She'd caught glimpses of it tied under the loose fabric at his waist ever since, gleaming brightly in the light and twinkling like a star in the dark. He'd stopped wearing his helmet entirely a week after he’d crafted it under her instruction.

Still, not all of Aqua’s curiosity for him had faded.

While she knew what his face looked like, the color of his hair and the shade of his eyes… She didn't know what was hidden under the suit he'd composed out of the darkness in his heart. It was an innocent curiosity, of course; one driven by sheer lack of knowledge. What could he be hiding that involved a jaw-to-toe cloak, woven of thick, tough tendrils of darkness? Why were even his fingertips covered? Had he ever taken it off - was it possible to take any part of it off? She had no way of asking. He'd only just grown comfortable enough in the past four months to lose the slate-black helmet and eat with them at the table; she didn't want to bring it up and push him back into a state of total secrecy and detachment.

Still, the questions lingered. She wondered about the texture of his skin, or if it was branded by the darkness. She wondered if his skin was fused to the inside of the suit, or if they were separate masses. She wondered if he was scarred, or somehow deformed. She wondered why he hid so vehemently from herself and Ven, since he was especially close to the two of them - he'd spent more time with Aqua than anyone else, a peaceful shadow in her presence, never needing to speak or move to keep her company. There was nothing in her mind that he would be able to show her that could make her see him as anything less than her friend. But, she could do nothing but continue to ponder the possibilities as to why he was always shrouded in that strange suit of his. Wonder about his insecurities, flaws, imperfections, the story that he would be able to tell without a word…

“You're thinking again,” Vanitas deadpanned from across the table.

Aqua snapped to attention, looking up to see Vanitas, arms folded on the table, the book closed in front of him, and his golden-yellow eyes drilling into her sapphire ones calculatingly - she could see it in how they had narrowed just the slightest bit. Otherwise, she would have assumed he was merely bored. Aqua quickly covered up the initial startle with faked disinterest, shrugging as she went back to her book. Oh, crap. What page was I on…? “I'm always thinking about something,” she replied evenly. It was a struggle not to sigh in relief when she found where she had last left off.

She didn’t make it much farther.

“Mmm, and that's why you were staring at the same word fooor…” He held up an arm, glancing down at the back of his wrist in clear criticism. Sometimes she wished he hadn't picked up their sarcastic gestures so easily. Ventus had taught him many things he really had no business adding to his repertoire of sass and bad attitude. “... Five minutes.” Aqua straightened her back, trying to show some dignity though she felt her face color slightly in embarrassment. She had always been a terrible liar - especially when put on the spot. “Hey - I had to reread the sentence, alright? Nothing wrong with that! It happens to the best of us.” She said defensively, struggling to keep her eyes locked with his. It was little use; by the hint of a smirk he was wearing, it was clear he already knew she was lying through her teeth. “Mhm. The same word for five minutes? Your eyes weren't moving, Princess.” Vanitas taunted, leaning forward onto the table challengingly. He was bull-headed and stubborn once he had decided upon knowing something; she wouldn't be getting out of his easily, if at all.

Aqua felt her heart rate pick up just the slightest fraction. How could she make an excuse that wouldn't sound worse than the truth? How would she be able to tell him the truth without pushing him away or having him lash out? She is driven herself into a dead end by letting her mind wander.

“Does it really matter if I was lost in thought?” She finally retorted, opening her book again and leaning over it to signal she was done with the conversation. Vanitas rarely respected body language, however obvious it was made to him, but she could at least give it a shot. As expected, he couldn't let it slide. Vanitas’s little smirk faltered, and he narrowed his eyes sharply as he spoke again - his voice wasn't as relaxed this time. “What are you thinking about? You were concentrating awful hard, Aqua; I'm sure you’ve got the answer in there…”

“About why you wear that suit all the time!” Aqua burst out, looking up quickly from her book once again.

Vanitas seemed taken off-guard by the quick response; even though it was an unintentional slip of the truth Aqua had wanted to hide, she was almost proud that she had managed to blindside him so easily. He recovered quickly enough, leaning back in his chair with a soft creak as he threw an arm over the backrest with one eyebrow cocked. “Because I don't think anyone would appreciate me running around fucking naked, correct me if I'm wrong, _sweetheart_. I'm comfortable in it, end of story,” he quipped, voice sharp. Aqua felt a little twinge in her chest - a twinge that told her she'd just plucked at a nerve, and one relevant to not only his past, but to the answers she sought.

She steeled herself for what she was sure would be a terrible outcome and squared her shoulders. “You're lying. You pick and pull at it all the time, like it's too tight, or it’s uncomfortable - you can't tell me otherwise, you do it almost every day!” Aqua argued, keeping her voice level. She didn't want this to turn into a shouting match; but with how Vanitas’s shoulders drew up and his expression soured, she knew it was taking a sharp turn in that direction.

“I pick at it because I get bored,” he growled, eyes lighting up with defensive anger. It was a challenge to her; a dare to push him just a little harder, just a little farther. He was already close to snapping - and as much as Aqua didn't want to worsen this situation, as much as she knew this would end terribly and she would regret it for months after, she couldn't bring herself to stop now. She couldn’t surrender this fight. Aqua’s open hands laid flat on the table, as if showing she wasn't losing ground to him. “Vanitas, if you were bored, you would find things to do - I _know_ what you're like when you get bored! You train, or sleep, or you find someone to hang around; you don't pull at your clothes like you're suffocating!” Vanitas glared at her so acidically that she felt the hairs along the nape of her neck standing on end; but she couldn't back down. She couldn't show him that he could get out of her lines of questioning so easily, or she would never break through - she would never learn anything about him.

She held that simmering gaze for what felt like an hour before Vanitas jerked his chair back, standing quickly and stalking towards the door with his shoulders hunched and fists clenched loosely at his sides. Aqua was out of her chair after him before he could reach the door, reaching for his shoulder - her fingers barely glimpsed the cable-like material before he'd wrenched himself out of her reach. Vanitas turned on her with a wild snarl, one arm raised partially; if he would have summoned Void Gear and swung on her then and there, she couldn't say she would have been surprised.

Aqua lowered her hand, feeling an ache settle in her heart as the dust kicked up in the argument cleared. She just couldn't understand what she could do to help if he wouldn't let her; what she could say to ease whatever he was feeling if she didn't know the base emotions themselves, or where they were rooted. As much as she wanted to help, there was no way to do so.

She may have just destroyed her only chance.

“Vanitas,” she said quietly, eyebrows drawn together in sadness. “why are you so afraid of me? Why don't you trust me if I'm your friend…?” He faltered for a second time since the discussion had begun. Vanitas stared at her for a moment, expression hardly legible, before he rolled his eyes sharply. She assumed she was fighting an uphill battle when his eyes didn't bother meeting her's again.

“I'm not afraid of you. That's stupid. And what do you want, anyway, for me to sit down and tell you some stupid fucking sob story about how Master treated me? Do you want me to tell you about how much of a tyrannical ass he was? How many times I tried to kill the bastard and how much worse the punishments got every time? How incredible it felt, watching you and Terra kill him, and how much I wished I had been the one to rip him into pieces? How lost I was when I realized he was finally gone? Ain't happening, sunshine. Not today, not tomorrow. Now _drop it_.” Vanitas hissed, his entire posture reeking of anger - and just under it, she felt a nervous twitch in his heart. She felt the tiny, barest thread of something like fear under the suffocating cloud of darkness bubbling out of him as if tearing at the seams - she could taste it at the back of her throat, nauseating and thick.

She was right.

He had something to fear.

Aqua didn't want to pity him; she knew better. It would only make him feel worse, and she knew how the constant stream of negativity in his heart wore him down when agitated; after exposure to light, to love, he reacted much differently to anything painful. It wasn't advantageous to him anymore, nor would it ever be to her. She shook her head softly, holding her arms halfway out in an invitation. “No, I'm not asking you to tell me - not yet, anyway. But… I'm here to help, if you want me to. Okay…?”

Vanitas turned to open the library door, and slammed it behind him. She couldn't hear his footsteps, but she felt the cloying darkness he was giving off wavering as he walked away. She dropped her outstretched arms in defeat, fingertips brushing the Wayfinder by her hip. She hoped Vanitas could at least take comfort from his own, if he wouldn't take any from her or the others.

 

 

Nine days had passed since the incident in the library.

Vanitas was on the defense constantly now; keeping a bit more distance between them, seeming to vanish when he wasn't in sight, and snapping at the simplest of questions. He'd nearly gotten into a fight with Terra, both only seconds from summoning their Keyblades before Aqua had separated them. All the while, the sense of unease from his transgressive behavior was paired with a horrible guilt - it was her fault he'd taken such a sharp turn in the wrong direction. All because she was too nosy for her own good…

Aqua had tried to forget about it. She tried her absolute best to brush it all under the rug and pretend, for Vanitas’s sake as much as her own, that the episode in the library was nothing more than their imagination - nothing but a bad dream. The more she tried to shut the intrusive thoughts out, the more they arose. Xehanort had obviously treated Vanitas as nothing more than a means to an end; a temporary pawn that he kept alive, even if only barely, so he could cause chaos. He had caused some sort of emotional damage, some sort of psychological scar - whatever the reason Vanitas was always wearing his armor, it had something to do with Xehanort and how he'd treated Vanitas in the past.

She couldn't shake the thoughts. She couldn't help but to feel like they should have seen the signs before Vanitas had ever been driven to attack them - seen it before Xehanort had ever put his heinous plan into motion.

Aqua sighed, once more pausing outside of Vanitas’s door. She'd been doing this quite a bit since the week before, when everything had gone awry; she had the odd urge to check on him, to make sure he was okay, even in spite of knowing that he could handle himself. Knowing that he was capable didn't mean she didn't want to lend a hand - but he'd refused that hand clearly enough already, and she wasn't waiting around to have it bitten. She turned away from the wooden door, heading back in the direction of her own room before a voice startled her to a stop.

“Y’know, someone is more likely to answer their door if you knock. I can't exactly hear you staring.” She turned sharply, seeing Vanitas sauntering down the hall from the same end she had come from; he must’ve been farther behind if she hadn't sensed him nearby, and caught up as she had stopped by his door. She felt an inward flush of embarrassment at being caught, but luckily, kept it from showing a second time. “I didn't want to bother you if you were there,” Aqua replied honestly. Vanitas had joined her by then, standing close to his door, just a few feet away from the other. He shrugged one shoulder, “Wouldn't’ve bothered me any.” He opened the door, pushing it inward before he looked back at her almost skeptically - almost as if he were judging her intentions at a glance. “Come on. I'm not going to be the most entertaining company, but I'm guessing you were standing there gawking for a reason.” Aqua thought better of arguing that she hadn't been gawking - there was barely an argument to be made against the statement, and she didn't want to repeat their last close call. She was too worried that she would lose him for good this time.

Instead, she nodded, following after him. “I don't expect you to be,” she replied, “it's still nice to sit together sometimes.” Vanitas had paused by his door, half-blocking her for a moment before he slid out of the way and shut it behind her. He headed for one of the two bean bag chairs crammed into the corner, kicking them apart and motioning vaguely to a pile of books he'd acquired from a handful of other worlds. The bean bags, as far as she understood, were for Vanitas and Ventus; they moved from one bedroom to another, and sometimes out into bigger spaces, depending on where they planned on wasting time. She was waved into the green one she assumed belonged to Ven as Vanitas plopped down heavily into the black and teal one next to it.

When Vanitas and Aqua spent time together as such, they didn't need to speak; there was usually an understanding silence between them if there were nothing worth discussing or nothing to be said, and Aqua respected the peace of his room. It was a neutral ground; he was in control of the space, and she didn't want to take that from him. He defended the room like it was all he owned - and she always tried to keep from lingering on that thought.

Aqua sat gracefully in the other bean bag, carefully browsing the stack of books. Some were old, with fraying spines and uneven pages; some were new, with a crisp smell and leather cover. They didn't have a set theme or pattern - they seemed to be picked up at random, from a variety of places and vendors. She took her time looking them all over before settling on one, with a faded fabric cover and scarcely legible title printed in ink; she couldn't say why it had caught her attention, but it unmistakably had. She had just reached chapter two when Vanitas broke that comfortable silence rested over them.

“It isn't that I don't trust you.”

Aqua didn't bother marking her place as she looked up in surprise. He was leaning back in the bean bag, hands folded over his stomach and eyes fixed on an undetermined point of the ceiling. His expression was mild. She thought over her words carefully - she had to say something, but even the slightest slip in how she spoke, how she replied, could throw him right back onto the offensive. “It's okay,” she settled on, “and I get it. There are things that people just… don't share, and I should have respected that from the start. I was in the wrong trying to back you into a corner like that, Vani.” Vanitas shook his head softly, letting out a weighted sigh as he closed his eyes. “Aqua, stop blaming yourself. It's obnoxious.” Aqua rolled her eyes softly, though the gesture wasn't challenging. Vanitas didn't have his eyes open to have seen it, regardless. “Why are you bringing it up again, anyway…?”

Vanitas stayed very still for a long moment, the once-peaceable silence dragging out uncomfortably. Finally, he pulled himself upright, hunched forward with his elbows on his outstretched legs and running a hand through his hair. Vanitas raised his head, eyes opening slowly as he turned his gaze on Aqua. It wasn't a glare or a scowl on his face. “Because I realized in the grand scheme of things, _none of this fucking matters_. It doesn't matter whether or not you get your answers about me, and it doesn't matter if I tell you. It doesn't make a difference in the long run. But - I talked to Ventus, and he said that maybe it would. That it could help me, or whatever, some bullshit about being more comfortable with myself or with you…” He trailed off, grumbling things to himself she didn't care to try and decipher.

Aqua could only care to focus on what he had said.

Not only was he finally entrusting Ven with personal issues of his after so long living under the same roof, sharing parts of the same heart as him… but it was possible he was going to entrust Aqua with that same faith.

When he looked back at her, he seemed strangely unsure of himself. Aqua did her best to give him a reassuring smile. “I get where he's coming from. Sharing things with friends is how you learn to rely on each other. But... I don't want you to push yourself for anyone’s sake but your own. Okay?” Vanitas sneered, but his heart wasn't in it. “I don't need to be babied.” He was picking at the fabric near his chest, tugging at the thick strands of darkness irritably. His jaw was set, mouth pressed into a hard line; despite her warnings, it was obvious he wasn't going to put this off, for himself or for anyone else. “I don't…” He looked back over at her, and for the first time since she'd known him, he looked almost timid. “I don't want any shit about what I’m about to do, alright? I know how it looks.” Aqua quickly shook her head, preparing herself for the worst. “Not at all. If you think you'll get some peace of mind, or if it'll help…”

Vanitas swallowed thickly, looking pointedly away from her as he looked slowly lifted his hands a fraction. Gradually, as if decaying, the darkness shrunk away from his fingertips as he pulled the metal guard off of his jaw. Aqua didn't want to stare, to make him uncomfortable - but her eyes were glued. His skin was just the same as that on his face - not marred by darkness, no ragged nails or hidden claws, no strange skeletal structure or--

Aqua felt her blood run cold as the darkness shrunk back over his hands. Around his knuckles and across the back of his dominant hand, there were distinct marks - scars, all that would have matched up perfectly to the teeth of Xehanort’s terrible Keyblade. He'd caught Vanitas on his hands with the weapon; and those scars wouldn't be from a fight. They were too precise, too well-placed and clean… They were a punishment. They’d been delivered while his hand was pinned. Aqua felt her stomach churn uneasily.

Vanitas’s hands were quivering, however much he was doing to hide it. The receding darkness stopped just above his wrist, and he flexed his fingers, knuckles popping faintly under his skin. He seemed perplexed by his own hands at first, as if unused to seeing them uncovered - but he looked back up at Aqua, a wry smirk on his face that told her he was trying not to change his mind. She would have never expected this sort of revelation in the first place. “First scars I ever got apart from splitting with Ventus. I tried to kill my Master in his sleep,” he informed her, too casually for what he had said. His past with Xehanort was obviously much more twisted, much uglier than she had imagined it to be. Aqua kept herself from reaching for his hands - kept herself from holding his hand to her heart to shield it, and from trying to kiss the pain away as she so badly wanted to. She wasn't sure how Vanitas would react. She couldn’t even be sure that the gestures would get her point across.

He seemed to become a bit more comfortable with his hands free of the material, stretching his fingers out gradually before setting them on his knees. “I wish I would've been the one that killed the bastard,” he said lowly, looking down at his fingers with a muted scowl. Aqua felt some of the darkness seeping out of him - not visible, but palpable in the air. She had no idea of how she could calm him down that wouldn't involve touching him; she settled best she could for words, instead. “At least he's gone. He's not… He's not attacking you ever again. Not attacking _any_ of us,” she promised. Vanitas sneered bitterly, but the expression fell short of his eyes as he looked over at her almost quizzically. “You really don't get it, do you?” He asked slowly. He lifted his hand, fingers spread, to observe the scars on his knuckles. “I wanted to cut his fucking hand off for this.” Aqua suppressed a shiver at his tone; Vanitas gave her a sideways glance before he dropped his hand limply into his lap once more.

“He's done worse. So has just about everyone else.” She could feel her heart tapping on her ribs, anxious to get out - she was unbelievably afraid to learn of the rest of his past visually, but if she turned tail and ran now, she highly doubted he would ever find himself in a sharing mood as such ever again. Aqua forced herself to swallow the feeling of sickness, eyebrows furrowed. “Did I…?”

Vanitas looked over with a more genuine smile, and it was almost startling with the context given. “Of course you did. Fighting you was a bitch,” he proclaimed with a half-chuckle. “You got me good a few times, I'll give you that. Better than Terra and Ven ever did.” Aqua couldn't find herself as proud of her strength as the other seemed to; to him, it seemed like nothing but a joke. In Aqua’s heart, it felt like a preemptive betrayal of him.

The darkness melted away inch by inch, exposing his arms, his shoulders, and slowly creeping around across his back; and with every bit shown, she noticed new scars. Ragged, waxy white markings over his shoulders, some stretching down onto his back; thin ones on his arms, tiny nicks left by magic (some showed signs of ice, and some were residual burns, from fire or electricity; all small and scattered); a jagged mark on the left side of his chest, over his heart, like a fissure that had iced over - identical to the one on Ven's chest, from where they'd been ripped in two.

She knew for a fact that the scar on the inside of his right shoulder, frayed at the edges with reminders of a blast of Thundaga lingering like frozen electricity under his skin, was from her own Keyblade. She tasted bile on her tongue heavier than any darkness that had ever permeated around him. He blinked sluggishly, tapping at the scar with one finger. “This was how you stopped me at the Keyblade Graveyard before I managed to forge the _x_ -blade entirely,” he recounted, studying it himself before he met her eyes. He was looking over himself like it was all new. “and for weeks, I wondered if you missed; but you _never_ miss. You got my shoulder on purpose. You stopped me from wielding a weapon for two weeks, and… You chose not to kill me in spite of all the shit I gave you.”

Aqua remembered. Of course she did.

She remembered the attack she'd hit him with before he could even bring his blade back to swing it at her - charged with a power, an energy, a vitality she didn't know she possessed. She had watched, driving the end of the Keyblade into his shoulder, as he dropped Void Gear and was thrown back into the ground, rolling to a stop. For the longest time, she'd thought she would regret sparing his life; that it would come back to bite her later on. When the fight had ended with Xehanort defeated, she’d been almost anxious when she realized that he was missing. When Aqua had next seen Vanitas, he had come to join them. Sometimes, she fearfully wondered what would have happened if she'd aimed for his heart, instead. 

She sighed, picking at her sleeve as she looked back up at his face. “I… Didn't cause anything permanent, did I?” He didn't hesitate to shrug, the motion fluid. He was always brutally honest - Vanitas only lied when he could gain something, even if he only gained amusement, but she knew he wouldn't lie about something like this. Not something this important to her. “It bothers me sometimes, when I think about it for too long,” he replied. “Not a lot, just an ache. It's like a growing pain when I can't sleep. It keeps me up some nights, I guess.” Aqua chewed at the inside of her lip, the remorseful responsibility settling in as she imagined how many hours, how many nights he must have lost to it.

She had other things to worry about for the moment; other questions to ask. She was coming leaps and bounds closer to finally painting herself a picture of his past, his story. There were colors and shapes she still needed to make sense of before she worried herself over details. “Did you ever have potions or cures for these injuries…? You were always on the move, so I assumed you had Curaga equipped, or some other fix, but I never saw you using any…” Vanitas seemed troubled. He was no longer reclined in the bean bag comfortably, or slouched inwards; he was tense, crouching instead of relaxed. It must have been a touchy subject. Aqua seemed to be getting better at seeking those out.

“I didn't have time. Xehanort could have killed me and trained a replacement if I fucked around for too long. I just…” His voice faded, as if realizing something he had never given a second thought before. He was starting to question his past actions, and in a way Aqua wished he wouldn’t need to. “Found somewhere dark and quiet to rest for an hour or so, and had some Unversed look out for me. The darkness always did what it could to help, but… Not exactly the most effective or painless way of stitching up holes. I just thought that’s how it was supposed to be.”

Vanitas was shrinking in on himself; his arms were folded over his stomach, shoulders drawn in and head ducked a fraction. The oddity of seeing him without the veil of dark magic over his torso didn't so much as glimpse the alienation of seeing him acting as if he were vulnerable - as if just exposing the scars, showing even an inch of skin to her, could spell disaster for him.

Aqua found herself reaching for the scar she had left again, her heart writhing in the hollow of her chest - knowing she had done this, even when they were the worst of enemies, made her feel a sense of regret she had never known before. She hadn't gotten anywhere close when Vanitas jerked back from her, one arm raised in a block as he stared at her in clear concern. “What the hell are you doing?” He asked, the tone of his voice a touch higher than he likely would have wanted it to be. Aqua retracted her hand slowly, praying she hadn't turned his trust back on him. She kept her voice as soft as she could. “I… I was just… I don't know,” she replied, looking down at her own hand for a moment almost ruefully. Even if she wouldn't hurt him, she had before; and he may have fixated himself on that fact at some point. “Were you lying when you said it doesn't usually hurt…?” She asked, a tone of wariness creeping into her words. Vanitas looked like he'd been asked the color of the sky.

“No, of course not. Why were you trying to touch me? Does _that_ normally hurt?”

_Oh, God, Vanitas…_

She felt another snap at her heartstrings. He'd never allowed another human being close enough to touch him - nothing had ever come in contact with his skin aside from weapons, harsh magic or the rough fabric of the darkness covering him. He didn't know what to expect from Aqua’s hands; a bruise, a cut, or a new scar. After all, she’d given him a few of each at some point in the past.

She shook her head slowly, bringing her hand back a fraction to give him room to get out of arm’s reach if he felt the need. “No, it doesn't… Vani, I… No one’s ever tried to touch you, have they…?” Vanitas snorted sharply in a bid to hide his sudden nerves. She could feel the anxiety stirring in his heart, cold and bitter as the deepest trenches of an ocean.  “Not unless they're trying to kill me, and that's through my armor. _Why_?” Aqua swallowed a tight knot tying up her throat. This was a make or break moment. “Let me see your hand, please...?” she requested. She was in no position to be making demands now that she knew the extent of the neglect he'd been shown - she was in no way, shape, or form going to ask him to do anything more than he already had.

And yet, giving her an uneasy glance, he held out his scarred right hand to her slowly, and let it rest mid-air between them. Aqua was careful that she didn't move too quickly; that she didn't make a grab for him, or hold on too tightly. Slowly, she slid her hand into his, their palms resting lightly together as her other hand cupped them, guiding his fingers over her hand and holding it there lightly. For all the opportunities she was giving him to escape, he didn’t take a single one of them. Gently, she let her fingertips brush over the scars. He stared at their joined hands as if he'd just seen the impossible, and Aqua brought them up, kissing the worst of the scars softly. She heard his breath hitch in his chest, and made sure her smile wasn't as shaky as she felt when she looked up again. Vanitas was stock-still; but he wasn't as tense. And slowly, gradually, he held on just a little bit tighter.

She had finally gotten through to him.

Without thinking, she leaned forward, closing the gap left between them, and kissed the bridge of his nose softly. Aqua had wanted to do that for so long; she was never sure why. She’d only known that before now, she wouldn’t have gotten away with her life if she’d tried it.

“You’re okay,” she whispered, resting her forehead against his lightly, the tips of their noses brushing lightly together. Vanitas stared, unblinking - and at last, he closed his eyes, allowing himself to rest there against her. He didn’t reply. He was quiet, and he was still. Aqua slowly rested a hand on his cheek, trying for any form of contact she could get before he inevitably jerked himself back from her and rebuilt his armor. Aqua watched with a soft smile as he leaned hesitantly into her touch, allowing himself to relax; she had no doubt this was terrifying for him, and the closest he’d ever been to anyone.

She wasn’t sure what came over her in that moment of peace; what brought her to lean forward, eyes closing, and brush her lips against his. She wasn’t sure why her heart was suddenly racing again, or why she felt so featherlight. For all his shock, Vanitas seemed to know just what she was doing; and however hesitantly, however unsure of himself and his movements he seemed, he returned the kiss best he could.

When they parted, neither of them spoke right away; they didn’t need to. Aqua pulled him into a hug, hands smoothing over his back, and held him close. Vanitas wrapped his arms around her much more quickly than he had reacted before, holding on tightly as he buried his head in the crook of her neck. His shoulders were shaking minutely, an after effect of his nerves - but his voice was even when he finally whispered something into the quiet of the room, and he sounded just as relieved as he sounded exhausted.

“Thank you.”

Aqua understood perfectly.


End file.
